


Small Victories

by riddlewrappedinanenygma



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 11:19:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15662193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riddlewrappedinanenygma/pseuds/riddlewrappedinanenygma
Summary: based on the request:“I love your writings so much. Would you mind doing a small one with Ed, where reader also works in the gcpd and he always tells her riddles and she really loves them. But as a child she has always been taught to “shut up, you’re dumb” so she can never answer his riddles because she’s scared. He finds out about her insecurities and starts to praise her for everything she does right so in the end - she gets his riddles right.”content warnings: small mention of bloodword count: ~5800****this fic uses gender-neutral titles, i.e. instead of “Mr., Ms., Mrs.” you’ll see the title “Mx.” so that any reader can fit themselves into the narrative.





	Small Victories

When you strolled into work this morning, it struck you that today marked your sixth month of working with the GCPD. This thought startled you a bit— you’d been here half a year already, with not much to show for it. You hardly knew anyone in the office, save your regular visitors, since you rarely left your own station. The work was mundane and left little room for growth or job opportunity. You felt lonely, in a way, and couldn’t shake the feeling of not being good enough for where you were at in life. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you opened the creaky door to your office and got to work.

You worked alongside a woman named Charlotte in the Annex, procuring files for the detectives and organizing them once completed. There was a decent amount of work to complete every day despite how menial that sounds, mostly due to the departure of the previous employee a few months prior. Kristen Kringle’s absence left stacks upon stacks to search through, rearrange, and re-file. You weren’t upset at the abundance of work though as it at least provided you and Charlotte with enough to make a living.

After a few months of working in the annex you began to familiarize yourself with cold case files, poring over them when there was a lull in the day or during one of your breaks. There was something about unsolved crimes that had you intrigued, and once you got going on one you couldn’t put it down until you had your own theories about how to solve it. Some of them you were keen to look into yourself if only you had the gall to step into a detective role. Your demure nature meant you kept these ideas and opinions to yourself, and besides— it was all conjecture, you had no formal training.  
  
Hours ticked by slowly but surely, your office quiet except for the buzzing fluorescent lights and the sound of pages flipping as you thumbed through miscellaneous files. Suddenly you heard your office door creak open, Detective Harvey Bullock strolling on up to your desk.  
  
“Hey there, kiddo, I heard Charlotte’s out sick today. How’s it goin’ down here?” He asked, walking up to your desk and plopping himself on the edge, donut and coffee in hand.

“It’s going well, Detective Bullock, thank you for asking. Representing your profession’s stereotype today, I see.”  

He grinned and dipped the donut in his coffee, “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it. And it’s Harvey, Y/N, I told you to quit with that formal stuff.”

“Noted,” you grinned back. Though you didn’t talk to many people in the precinct you did receive the occasional visit from the staff upstairs, and you’d taken a liking to Harvey’s visits in particular. He reminded you of a cranky teddy bear, but you wouldn’t dare let him know that. “How can I help you today, Detective Harvey?”  
  
That earned you an eye-roll, “Alright, that’s better at least. Y’know, when you first got here I could barely get two words from you and now you’re a regular jokester. Not sure if I should be wary or proud, but kudos either way.” He put his coffee mug down on the part of your desk with the least amount of clutter, “I actually need to ask you a favor. Can you find a couple of things for me? Here’s the list, it’s only a few but it may take a while to find them. They should be in the cold case files.”  
  
You grabbed the paper from him, noting the sticky marks near the top of it from his sugar-covered fingertips. “Actually, I know exactly where these are. One moment, please.”  
  
“Awesome,” you heard him say as you walked away, then headed to the back of the annex and began thumbing through the cabinets. The files were right where you remembered them, and within a few minutes you were walking back up to hand them to Harvey. You were startled when you came back to your desk and realized that he’d sat himself in your seat, lounging back with his feet propped up on the edge of the desk. He had a file in hand, eyebrows raised as he looked through it.  
  
“F-found your files, Harvey,” you walked up to him and held them out, “Is there anything else I can get for you?”  
  
Harvey looked up from the file and gave you a look, “What’s this file doin’ out? And what are these notes scribbled on here? This is one of my cold cases from when I first got here, and that’s definitely not my handwriting.”  
  
“Um, well,” you looked for the right words to explain, blood rushing to your face in embarrassment, “I sometimes, y’know o-on lunch breaks and if there’s d-downtime, I’ll, uh, look through cold case files for, uh… fun?”  
  
“For… _fun_.” He gave you a disbelieving look. “This is fun?”  
  
You were having a hard time making eye contact with Harvey, bowing your head in shame and crossing your arms defensively, “Yes, and I know it sounds silly, b-but sometimes I just look through them to see i-if there’s anything I can… add to the file. Anything I can come up with that wasn’t necessarily, uh, explored when it was open.”  
  
There was silence as Harvey flipped through the paperwork, a concentrated look on his face. “Huh.”  
  
Thinking you’d offended him, and worried you were about to get reprimanded, you stuttered out, “N-not to say that I don’t think you exhausted every effort to close the case, but I just wanted to try my hand at it and m-maybe come up with my own theories. They’re certainly not correct, obviously, at least I wouldn’t think if _you_ weren’t able to come to that conclusion yourself because that is, after all, your j-job but—”  
  
“Hey, hush, I think you might be on to something,” Harvey muttered, not looking up from the file, “Huh, I’ll be damned. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.” He looked up at you with surprise etched on his face, “Do you mind if I borrow this one too? I wanna look into it a bit.”  
  
Your eyes almost bugged out of your skull, they were opened so wide in disbelief, “Really? You think I’m onto something? That can’t be right, I-I was just spitballing ideas, I’m not a professional, I don’t want you to have to waste your time on my stupid ideas—”  
  
“Y/N, seriously, these are some really good notes. I mean it.”  
  
You were speechless, honestly unsure how to respond. You’d never been great at receiving compliments. “I-I can’t be— I’m… thank you, Harvey.”  
  
“Nah, don’t thank me. I’m just callin’ it as I see it.” He stood up from your desk and took the files you’d retrieved earlier from your hands, “Thanks for grabbin’ these, I’ve gotta go before Captain Barnes gives me an earful. Take it easy, kiddo.”  
  
Still feeling a little shell-shocked, you managed to squeak out a farewell before you sat down and hid your face in your hands. _‘Unbelievable,’_  you mentally scolded yourself, _‘I can’t believe you thought you could solve that case on your own. How presumptive! How stupid! Harvey thinks you’re a real class-act now, trying to do what he couldn’t, you can kiss that budding friendship goodbye… Why can’t you keep well enough alone?’_  You groaned into the hands covering your face, taking deep breaths to try and come down from your frenzy.  
  
You were suddenly exhausted, dropping the hands from your face and leaning back in your chair. “I guess I can start looking into a new career,” you muttered to yourself, then looked at the clock, “Twenty minutes until break. Maybe I’ll get lucky and a gun’ll misfire right into my face as I pass the bullpen.” You realized how melodramatic that was, but you were so ashamed of yourself that you were half-hoping it’d really happen. With a heavy sigh you stood up from your desk and began to put away another stack of case files.

* * *

_‘Perfect timing.’_  You sighed in relief as soon as you walked into the break room, the smell of freshly-brewed coffee instantly calming you down. Hurrying to the cabinet full of mugs, you searched for yours, and realized it was all the way in the back of the top shelf. You strained on your tip-toes to get as tall as you could possibly be, reaching out to try and grab the mug. To your displeasure, it was just out of your reach, fingertips coming up mere centimeters short of where it sat.  
  
Huffing in frustration you hopped and swatted at the back of the cabinet, trying to hit it closer to you, and managed to budge it just a little bit in your direction. This minor victory gave you a bit of encouragement and you hopped again, missing the cup completely, then another time, missing it— on the third try, mid-hop, you heard someone in the corner say, “Need some help?”  
  
Startled, you whipped your hand back to your side, not noticing that your hand had finally reached the back of the cabinet, which swiped your mug right off the shelf. It landed on the tile below and shattered, sending shards of broken ceramic across the floor. “O-oh my god, _shit_ , I can’t believe I did that,” you got on your hands and knees immediately and began to pick up the fragments. You heard a chair scrape back and footsteps come towards where you were kneeling. “Please don’t worry about helping me, I’m sorry, i-it’s my mess…”  
  
“No, please, it was my fault for startling you. I don’t mind in the slightest.” The figure crouched down next to you, and you looked up from the floor to see a man with dark brown hair and glasses giving you a tight-lipped smile. He extended a hand out to you, “Edward Nygma, I work over in Forensics.”  
  
Your hands were full of broken mug and you gestured apologetically, unable to shake his hand. “I’m Y/N, I work down in the Annex.”  
  
“So you do,” Edward replied, scooping up some shards of the mug while you found the trash can and tossed your handful of debris out. “I’ve seen you around the precinct but haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. It’s not often that I get down there anymore.”  
  
“It’s probably better if you don’t, I seem to be making quite a fool of myself around here lately.” You kneeled down again and picked up another piece, rolling your eyes at your self-deprecating joke. “Thank you again for helping me pick this mess up, I’m so sorry for the trouble. You’re very kind for helping.”  
  
“Hmm,” he thought a moment, “I happen by chance and come without warning, and may leave a cruel sting but there’s no use in mourning. What am I?”  
  
Your mind blanked and you bit your lip in worry. A riddle? How strange. “I-I’m not, um— I’m not sure, I’m afraid I’m not terribly clever.” Better to admit defeat than make a fool of yourself trying, you figured. You’d grown up learning that lesson—better to sit down and be quiet than mess things up, something you were quite good at.  
  
“ _‘An accident,’_ ” he answered, smiling widely at you, “And that’s all this was. No harm, no foul, Mx. Y/N.”  
  
“Thanks, Mr. Nygma,” you fidgeted nervously with the shard in your hand, “I’m just having a rough day, I gu— _Ow_!” Your fingers slipped and the jagged edge of the shard cut along the inside of your palm, not very deep but enough to sting. Blood pooled up immediately and you hissed in pain.  
  
“Oh dear,” Edward quipped, looking around the room quickly and grabbing a few paper towels to soak up the wound, “There doesn’t seem to be a First Aid kit in here, but I do know where we can find one. Follow me, please.”  
  
“Alright,” you said through gritted teeth, trying hard not to cry. _‘Way to go, asshole,’_ your inner voice sneered, _‘One fuck-up after another.’_  
  
Edward led you out of the kitchen quickly, making sure to discard the piece that had harmed you before exiting. A couple of twists and turns later you arrived at one of the labs, and he gestured for you to take a seat at the table. He grabbed a box labeled “FIRST AID KIT” off of the wall from which it hung, and hurried back to you. “Hand, please.”  
  
You held it out, wincing at the amount of blood that had seeped through the paper towels. Edward grabbed some sterile wipes from the box, peering up at you through his wide-lensed glasses, “This might sting a tad, just a warning.” And that it did— you had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from crying out, but soon it was over and your hand fully bandaged. “Voila,” he gave the uninjured part of your hand a small squeeze, “Good as new.”  
  
“Again, that was… incredibly kind. Thank you, Mr. Nygma. I’m so sorry for all the trouble I’ve put you through in the last ten minutes! This isn’t a very good introduction.”  
  
He shook his head, “It’s no problem at all, no thanks are necessary.”  
  
The stinging in your hand had lessened to a dull throb by now, and you allowed yourself a quick look around the lab. “Is this where you’re stationed in here?”  
  
“Primarily,” Edward replied. You could feel his gaze on you, but you were hesitant to make eye contact, worrying that somehow you might embarrass yourself further. Instead you kept your eyes on your hands folded in your lap. He continued, “Though our current Medical Examiner has been generous enough to let me work in her lab space as well. There’s some field work, too, when the job calls for it.”  
  
“That sounds great, a very admirable position.” You chanced a look up at him and your eyes met, a faint blush rising to your cheeks noting the half-smile that your compliment had brought to his face. A buzzing in your pocket alerted you to the time, and you sighed heavily, “Looks like my break is over, I should be getting back to the Annex.” You hopped down from the chair and held out your good hand, “It was good meeting you, Mr. Nygma. If there’s anything I can do to repay you for your help today, please let me know.”  
  
Edward took your hand and shook it, thinking a moment before replying, “There may be one thing you could do for me, actually…”  
  
“Sure. Anything.”  
  
Rushing over to his desk he grabbed a notepad and pencil, scribbling down a quick note before tearing it off the pad and handing to you. “Here, take this. You’ll know what to do with it— open it whenever you’re ready.”  
  
“U-um, alright. I will look at it very shortly.” The odd request confused you, but you were willing to look at it to repay his kindness. “Thank you again, Mr. Nygma. I hope to see you around.”  
  
“Same to you, Mx. Y/N.”  
  
The trip back to the annex took no time at all. As soon as you got yourself situated you fished Edward’s note out of your pocket. It read:  
  
_‘What language do people speak without saying one word aloud?’_  
  
Placing the note on the table, you furrowed your brows in confusion. Another riddle? What was his aim? Did you just need to solve it and report back? What if you can’t solve it? Doubt filled your mind and you grew nervous, knowing that this was a recipe for trouble— Edward was going to expect you to have an answer for him sometime soon, and you knew you’d probably mess it up somehow. You pushed the note to the side, deciding not to worry about it right now. You already felt like an idiot with all that had transpired today, no need to add on to your list of grievances for the time being.  
  
“Three more hours,” you said to yourself, glancing up at the clock and willing it to move a little faster, “Just need to get through three more hours.”

* * *

A couple glasses of wine, a nice bubble bath, and a refreshing night’s sleep later, you were ready to get back to work and push aside thoughts of yesterday’s embarrassments. Strolling through the lustrous front doors of the GCPD you hung a sharp right, then left, heading right past the bullpen (Harvey giving you a quick wave as you did), and down the steps to the Annex. You looked around the room wistfully, noting that Charlotte was out again, and set off to work.  
  
It was about mid-day when you heard the door to the Annex creak open, light footsteps headed in your direction. You were in the back corner amongst the file cabinets and couldn’t see over them, so you began to walk back up to the front, large stack of files held in your crossed arms. “Hello, can I help you?” You received no response. “Hello?”  
  
You started to round the corner, almost to your desk, “Hel— _oof!_ ”  
  
Suddenly you were on the ground, breath knocked out of you as you slammed into your visitor, files scattering across the floor. “O-Oh my, Mx. Y/N— are you hurt?”  
  
“No, no, I’m fine,” you looked up and into the worried eyes of Edward Nygma, who offered his hand to help you up. “Though I have to say, you did startle me!”  
  
Edward hastily picked up the files from the ground, brushing them off quickly before handing them to you. He gave a sheepish grin, “Please accept my apology, I should have announced myself better.”  
  
You walked the few short steps to your desk and placed the files down, turning back to him and shrugging, “It happens. What brings you all the way to the Annex?”  
  
“I heard that Charlotte was out again,” he replied, and then grinned gleefully, “I also heard some fascinating news this morning that I wanted to share.”  
  
“Oh?” You leaned against your desk, intrigued. “Please do. Would you like a seat?”  
  
Edward nodded, perching himself on the stool in front of your desk. You sat down in your chair as well, looking expectantly at him. “Well?”  
  
“It’s about you.” A wolfish grin spread across his face.  
  
“Me? What do you mean?” Nervousness flooded your mind, thinking about what you could possibly have done wrong to get people talking about you. You could feel the concern etch itself across your features and saw Edward’s grin dissolve.  
  
“Nothing bad, of course!” He held his hands out and waved them as if to dismiss the thought. “I actually think congratulations are in order!”  
  
You were sure that he could see the gears turning in your head as you tried to process the situation, a look of consternation on your face. He continued, smiling widely again, “I was walking past the bullpen this morning when I heard Detective Bullock talking about one of his cold case files from several years ago, it sounded like he was reopening the case. Captain Barnes and James Gordon were with him, looking over the notes, when I heard him mention your name— he said you gave him the idea to look at it again and you did a lot of the detective work yourself.”  
  
“Oh!” Your eyebrows rose and you felt your face redden in surprise, “A-are you sure? He actually said that?”  
  
“He did,” Edward leaned forward conspiratorially, “He said you were ‘very promising,’ too. It sounded to me like he thought you might be a good addition to the task force.”  
  
Your mouth opened and closed, not knowing what to say. You were never good at receiving compliments, usually wanting to flee and stick your head in the nearest hole in the ground until the person trying to compliment you left. This time was no different, and you shrugged nervously, “T-that's… No. He was just being nice. I didn’t— I’m not— i-it was just a few notes, I didn’t do that much.”  
  
“I doubt that’s true,” Edward shook his head, “He was very adamant about your help, he spoke very highly of you.”  
  
“He’s very kind…” your voice trailed off and Edward sat still, curious gaze upon you. Silence filled the room, allowing you a few minutes to mull over what he had told you. There was a strange mix of emotions battling it out inside you— embarrassment, again, at having been caught rifling through cold case files without being given permission; shock, at Harvey re-opening the case because of _your_ detective work; worry, that your ideas wouldn’t pan out and it was all a waste of time… but deep beneath it all you felt a little glimmer of pride, an unfamiliar but welcome feeling lifting your spirits. You could feel Edward’s gaze still upon you, but you refused to make eye contact, a bit wary about accepting his kind words.  
  
Suddenly he perked up, “Did you solve my riddle?”  
  
To be honest, you had quite forgotten about it. You opened up the top desk drawer and plucked the note out, reopening it and staring down at the neatly scrawled riddle, biting your lip in concentration. “Um…” you tried to bide your time, “Well, there’s a, um, I…” You stared at the note, eyes wide, willing an answer to appear before you, “I have no clue.”  
  
“No guesses?” Edward looked crestfallen, and you felt horrible for ruining his fun.  
  
“I-I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m not very good at these.” You gave him an apologetic half-grin, pushing the note towards him, “I’ll leave the riddling up to the experts, I’m not clever in the slightest.”  
  
He paused a moment, “Well, according to Detective Bullock you are exceedingly clever.” You shrugged, and he continued, “The answer is _‘body language.’_ Not to be too forward, but I’ve noticed that yours seems a tad nervous right now. Or, more likely, insecure from what I’ve been able to surmise. Even now, after such good news it seems you’re doubtful of your abilities. Why do you sell yourself short? You should be proud of all you’ve accomplished.”  
  
“Oh.” You weren’t sure how to respond and kept your eyes glued to your folded hands, “I guess that’s a good question… Sometimes I just feel like my shortcomings outweigh anything positive that I’ve done for myself, you know?” You chanced a look up at Edward and couldn’t decipher the look on his face. As you commonly do you when you’re nervous, you began to ramble, “I-I wasn’t raised in a very constructive environment, I guess. There was a lot of yelling and condescending when I would try to do or say anything, and it was enough to get me feeling like I shouldn’t contribute to anything unless I knew without a doubt that I would succeed. It was a lonely feeling, and I never quite shook it.”  
  
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, worried you’d said too much, until Edward replied, “I understand. I was raised in a… similar environment.”  
  
“I-I’m sorry,” you responded, noting the distant look in his eyes, a twinge of guilt running through you at having brought up bad memories, “I didn’t mean to throw myself a pity party and stir things up, I was just surprised at the news— it’s not often that I can celebrate a victory. Now if only I could un-break my coffee mug.” You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
“Minor details,” Edward’s face brightened up at the jab, “Here, I know you can solve this one, give me that note back if you will…”  
  
You handed it to him, watching him hurriedly scribble another riddle onto the page. He handed it back to you with a smile, and you felt strangely giddy. Maybe you _could_ do this. “Game on, Mr. Nygma.”

* * *

The next day you walked into the GCPD with a spring in your step, breezing past the bullpen and hopping down the steps to the downstairs hallway, pushing right past the creaky wood door and into the Annex. You stopped in your tracks when you spotted a small box sitting on your desk, a shiny green bow adorning the top. You approached with caution, looking around for anyone else to see who may have dropped it off. By the looks of it, Charlotte was finally back— a large purple purse and heavy set of keys sat at the desk to your right, the lamp switched on and a steaming cup of coffee next to it.  You sat down at your desk, carefully examining the box for one more second before untying the bow and lifting up the lid.  
  
“No way,” you breathed as you lifted up the gift inside. It was your exact coffee mug— the very same style of the one you had broken the other day in the break room. Your heart swelled with gratitude, knowing just which bespectacled Forensic Scientist had dropped it off, and you took out the note he had written yesterday. Thinking for just a few more seconds, you scribbled down your answer to the newest riddle. You knew your answer was probably wrong, and _oh_ , did that thought scare you… But you knew this would be a nice way to express your thanks. And hey, maybe he was right— maybe you should stop doubting yourself so much.  
  
_‘What a novel idea,’_ you thought, and went in search of Edward, a warm, happy feeling lifting your spirits at the thought of spending more time with him.

* * *

Days and then weeks went by in the blink of an eye— you and Edward getting to know each other better through random visits to each other’s offices, Edward usually providing a new riddle with each encounter. At first you were hesitant to put yourself out there to try and solve them, fearing you’d be wrong and that you’d be humiliated— but sure enough, after missing the first 3 or 4 of them, the warm encouragement from Edward helped you to loosen up and start to really dig in to solve them without hesitation. Pretty soon you were throwing riddles back at him, which he easily solved, but it was a decided improvement from the first day you’d met. You truly felt comfortable around him, something you couldn’t say about many people in your life, and every day you looked forward to seeing him walk through the door to the Annex.  
  
One day, about three months into your blossoming friendship with Edward, you were both sitting in the Annex, the stool from in front of your desk pulled around so that he could sit next to you while you both pored over an old case file you’d found in the back. It was a slow day, and Charlotte was on her lunch break, so you had a little time to yourselves to do some extra-curricular detective work. You were thrilled that Edward expressed such interest in looking over these undeniably mundane files with you, and couldn’t believe your luck— sometimes you caught yourself staring at his profile while he studied the papers in front of him, brows furrowed with his lips pursed in concentration.  
  
You just so happened to be having one of those moments when he looked up at you, catching your gaze, “Is everything alright?”  
  
“Yes, yes,” you said hurriedly, embarrassed, “I just, uh… zoned out for a moment.”  
  
“Hmm.” Edward’s knee was resting casually against yours, having to share such cramped quarters at your tiny desk, and you were suddenly aware of how close your hands were. You could’ve sworn he had the same thought by the way he slightly shifted in his seat, nervously avoiding eye contact. His hand slid a few centimeters left on the table, stopping just when it was about to come in contact with yours. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks, heart leaping when his left pinky finger looped around your right. You curled your finger around his, body buzzing with excitement and nerves about the unknown territory you two were on the verge of stepping into, and you felt his gaze on your flushed cheeks as you turned to face him, eyes meeting when—  
  
“U-um, sorry to interrupt you two,” Harvey Bullock stopped in his tracks, halfway into the Annex. He looked at the intertwined fingers and looked from your face to Edward’s, then back to yours again, “Captain Barnes and I’d like to see you up in his office whenever you get a sec, Y/N.”

You pulled your hand back from Edward’s and cleared your throat, “Absolutely, I can go right away. Thank you, Detective Bullock.”  
  
Harvey gave you a pointed look, and you amended, “I mean, Harvey.”  
  
“Better late than never, I suppose.” With one more odd look at the two of you he began to walk back up to the bullpen.  
  
You stood up and gave Edward an apologetic smile, “Hopefully I’ll be right back, I’m not sure what they could possibly want. Unless I’m going to get reprimanded for spending too much time with the Forensic Scientist from upstairs. Have you met him?” You teased.  
  
“Sounds like quite a gentleman,” he replied, giving you a small smile. The tension in the room had nearly dissipated at this point, but you still felt the compulsive need to avoid eye contact out of nervousness. You weren’t sure what would have happened if Harvey hadn’t walked in at that very moment, but you knew that you were disappointed by the interruption.  
  
“I’ll be right back,” you promised, and made your way up to Captain Barnes’s office.

* * *

“Mx. Y/N, come in! Please take a seat.” Barnes flung open the door to his office and you walked in hesitantly, taking a seat right in front of his large oak desk. Bullock was standing up behind Barnes, leaning against the wall casually, face not betraying any sort of emotion. You nervously wondered why you were there. Barnes took a seat and leveled his gaze with yours, “Look, I don’t want to take up too much of your time, because Lord knows how many files there are to get through down there. I don’t envy your job, truth be told.”  
  
“I-it’s not that bad, sir,” you smiled meekly, “I do find it enjoyable most days, if you can believe it.”  
  
“You know, I actually can,” Barnes replied, grabbing a file from the top of his desk and flipping through its pages, “Though from the looks of these notes you took on Bullock’s cold case file, your talents might be better suited elsewhere…”  
  
Confusion washed over you, “I’m sorry, sir, I’m not sure what you mean.”  
  
“Congratulations,” he replied, handing you back the file that Harvey had taken from you months ago, “You solved your first case.”  
  
Your heart nearly stopped beating out of shock, and you looked from Barnes to Harvey, trying to gauge their reactions, “I-I’m thankful, of course, for the kind words, but… Are you sure? This isn’t some misunderstanding? I honestly didn’t do that m-much work, just notes and some guesswork and—”  
  
“Y/N, say no more,” Harvey cut you off, and when you looked up at him he was beaming with pride, “As soon as I read your notes, it was like something went off in my head and we had to reopen the case. Everything you wrote down in this file is what led us to finally catch that son of a bitch. Another one behind bars, all thanks to your hard work.”  
  
You were floored. “I-I’m not sure what to say, it’s just… wow,” you breathed out, “I can’t believe it.”  
  
Barnes stood up from his desk to shake your hand, “Keep at it and you’ll make a name for yourself, Mx. Y/N— might even get yourself a promotion! This kind of work from someone without proper training is unprecedented. Detective Bullock and I thank you for your hard work.”  
  
“Thank you,” you enthused, blushing profusely.  
  
Harvey showed you out of Captain Barnes’s office, giving you a pat on the back. “Congratulations, kiddo, I mean it. That was some great work you did there.”  
  
“Thanks Harvey, it means a lot.”  
  
Harvey winked at you, “Go tell Ed that you haven’t been sacked, I know that’s what you were probably thinking when we called you up here— I saw him lurking in the bullpen while we were talking, looked like he was trying to keep an eye on you. Didn’t know you two were so close…”  
  
You blushed, “I-I mean, we’re not, not really…”  
  
“Uh-huh,” Harvey rolled his eyes and sat down at his desk, “See ya later, Y/N.”  
  
“See ya, Harvey, and thanks again.”  
  
You practically ran to Edward’s office, feet barely touching the floor, absolutely elated about what just happened. You reached your destination in record time, flinging open the door and rushing over to where he sat hunched over some beakers and test tubes. Without even thinking about it you flung your arms around him, “I did it!”  
  
Edward pushed his safety goggles up to the top of his head, a confused look on his face as he gently returned the embrace, “What did you do?”  
  
“Solved the case! The one you told me about, the one that Harvey reopened because of my notes. They wanted to let me know that my notes led to them solving the case, Barnes even mentioned a potential promotion if I keep it up!” You couldn’t get the words out fast enough, pausing to regain your breath from all the excitement.  
  
“That is _fantastic_!” A wide grin spread on his face, “See, I knew you could do it! You’d give Detective Bullock a run for his money any day.”  
  
“I can’t believe it all worked out,” you sighed in relief, resting your head on his shoulder. You felt his arms tighten around you and your heart skipped a beat, remembering how you’d left off your last encounter. You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, breath catching in your throat when your eyes met, his eyes flickering down to your lips for a split second. Time seemed to stop and you were both leaning in, closing the gap, your lips touching softly as your eyes flutter shut. Edward placed a gentle hand behind your neck and deepened the kiss which you happily returned, your body buzzing with happiness

By the time you pulled back from the embrace your hair was a little tussled, cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, your heart beating a mile a minute. It looked like Edward was faring just the same, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “May I take you out to a celebratory dinner tonight, Mx. Y/N?”  
  
“You may,” you grinned back, heart fluttering happily.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment and/or kudos if you enjoyed this fic! You can also follow me on my Tumblr under the same name if you'd like (riddlewrappedinanenygma) :)


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